Fun with the belly

To honor the beginning of the 3rd trimester, I got the belly decorated:

No, no, no, I didn't run over the new LA Ink store for some needlework.. its just a fun henna tattoo with a little glitter for added effect. 

 

Just a little fun for a summer baby belly...

The point where the fun is quickly coming to an end

I over did it in San Fran last week. When one feels cute and loves flaunting the belly, one forgets that she is PREGNANT and that her body is doing incredible things like, oh creating a new life, and no matter how good she's been with working out and doing yoga, walking over 10 miles of hills in ballet flats over a 24-hour period may not be the smartest thing to do.

I came home and noticed a distinct difference in my gait. Its now waddletastic. I also have issues getting out of bed, off the couch, off the floor and yes, I feel as if my legs are a wishbone that some little kid is fighting with his sister over and pulling apart.

Oh, welcome welcome THIRD TRIMESTER! The beginning of the end...

Its amazing to me how my body has responded just as my daily newsletter from What to Freak Out About When You Are Expecting   told me it would. At about 11 weeks, it told me "hey, you are going to start feeling better and have more energy!" And Voila! I did! This week it reminded me that the so-called "fun trimester" is nearing its end and now you will really begin to feel like a disabled beach whale. LaLaLa! Not me! I'm feeling GREAT!

BAM! Where the hell did that brick wall I just rammed into with my forehead come from??

So, let the bitching begin I guess. I'm in the last 12-13 weeks of what is almost definitely my last pregnancy. There is a fully formed child in my belly kicking and twirling and just waiting until she's gained enough weight and her little lungs are ready to breathe to make her grand appearance into the world (Hopefully. Listen Princess, no early arrivals, okay?).

It's now crunch time.

Shit, I guess I really need to decide on the bedding now, huh?

Our San Francisco Treats

In celebration of 7 years of marriage, and since apparently we are somewhat vacationally challenged when it comes to real, week-long getaways, Jason and I went on a little trip up to San Francisco this weekend. You may have noticed that the child's name was not included. It only took us 3.5 years, but we actually left Lucas for the entire weekend with my parents. And it was wonderful all around.

Of course we were apprehensive about leaving him. Could we manage 2 nights and 3 days away? Could HE manage it or would he totally freak out? The answer was clear on the way home last night when Lucas asked "Can I go to be Bebe and Buddy's house alone again next weekend?!" He had a blast, and probably too many cookies, and we - well, we had a much needed break from sippy cups and the continuous streams of snacks.

It really was a wonderful weekend where we pretty much ate our way around the city. Since I can't drink, I decided to make up for it doing something I can do, and can do pretty well at the moment - stuffing my face. Our tour of eats started Friday night at Cafe Zuni with our friends Marina and Craig - two of the biggest foodies we know. And OH HOW WE LOVE them for it. As couple-friends compatibility goes, we are equal with them in food and what we think is amazing. They also happen to be some of the most connected people - appearing to know the majority of the restaurant owners around town which leads to great tables and comp'ed desserts (5 in one night, actually).

After dinner on Friday they dropped us off in the heart of North Beach with instructions on where to go for a romantic, amazing dessert. Cafe Jacqueline pretty much makes one thing - souffles. Run by a little old french lady, who is there every night souffling away and greeting you with a cheerful "Bonsoir" as you walk through the kitchen to the restroom, our chocolate souffle was one of the most amazing things I've ever eaten.

Oh and eat it we did.

It was supposed to be for 4 people, but hey, we are 2.5 people at the moment, right???

Saturday we walked. And Walked. And Walked. We walked from our adorable cozy hotel, the Galleria Park,  in the Union Square area down to the Embarcadero, and back. We walked all over Union Square - me, desperate to buy SOMETHING in San Fran, but actually pretty disappointed by the SOS (same old shit) that we have at our Gaps and H&Ms.

Saturday afternoon we treated ourselves to a couples massage which just made us.. yup, you guessed it, hungry again.

Knowing we were going to have a an amazing Italian dinner that night - we decided to "go light" and shared a beat salad and a plate of homemade sausages and pretzels at Postrio.  Beets are actually very popular in San Fran at the moment, with all of the restaurants serving up their variation of salads. ALL of them amazing in their own right.

This one topped my list. Then again, the sausage and pretzels and 3 variations of mustard's were not too shabby either.

So, am I making you hungry yet??

Saturday night we went out to dinner with Marina and Craig to a place called  Capannina, where we feasted on a variation of Italian yumminess including a salad with peaches wrapped in prosciutto, pasta carbonara with black truffles, and beef medallions crusted in Gorgonzola cheese. Let me tell you, I can almost still taste the black truffles in my mouth. One of those things we used to wonder about back during the OG Iron Chef obsession days, came to life in the the creamiest sauce you can imagine. Bellisimo.

The dinner commenced with the first 3 of the 5 desserts that night. Profoitoloes like you would not believe, gelatos that me gasp out loud and something with caramel popcorn and a chocolate pudding that was to die for.  

Oh yes, we ate very well.

It was lovely to get away, to go back to our favorite cities, but I will admit it was hard on the preggo. All the walking around in probably not the best shoes took its toll on my ever-expanding body. And while I was VERY proud to get my 26 week body into my Paige Jeans (with the help of my BBuckle), I must admit that this was probably the last time I will even attempt to get my ass into those jeans until after my November due date.  

This is the artsy shot.. As Jason pointed out, the baby is in belly jail.. and that's Alcatraz in the background..

Now I'm really not one to pull the pregnancy card. I don't believe pregnant woman should get disabled persons parking passes just for being pregnant, and I've only once even take advantage of the "expectant mother's parking" at the mall. I'm pregnant, not an invalid. But by Sunday, I was feeling pretty damn pregnant.

We get to the airport with time to spare only to find our 45-minute Southwest flight  was delayed 90 minutes. SIGH. I was proud that I remembered to check in online the night before, thus insuring us "A group" passes when boarding the cattle call -like flight. The waiting area is currently at max capacity since 2 different flights are waiting to board at the same gate, and Jason and I are standing there, desperately trying to find an area to park my pregnant ass down - even if it meant on the floor. We just happened to be somewhat close to the front of the "A group" boarding area when this little man jumped up out of his seat and walked over to me.

"Are you waiting for A group?" he asked. "Yes, we are A group.." I reply.. thinking, wow, is he going to be nice and offer me his chair? Will he move his luggage that's resting on the chair next to him for the obviously pretty pregnant woman?

"Well, we have all been here waiting - the back of the line is down there.." he replies as he goes back to his seat.

SHOCKED, I muttered some kind of "Uh, great.." as I grabbed Jason's hand to make sure that he wouldn't run over and punch the guy, thus really keeping us from getting on that plane.  Pregnant or not, who the fuck made him king of the waiting area? But that sparked something in me.

I walked over to customer service, stuck the belly out and very sweetly asked if being as pregnant as I am would qualify us for pre-boarding. I then took my little blue permission slip back over to where Jason was still standing, glaring at the guy and very loudly proclaimed "Well honey, we can go hang out anywhere now and not worry about which LINE we are in since we can PREBOARD" 

Take that asshat.

We made it home 1.5 hours later than expected, but made it home to a very excited to see us little boy none the less. It was a great weekend away..gave us some quality "us time" before little Princess Buttercup arrives. And yes, it will probably take us another 3 years to do it again...

for more images of food and frolic, check out my flickr page.. 

The 7 Year Itch

August 5th 2000

 

 

 

 

August 5, 2007 - 7 Years and 1.5 children later..

 

Mommy lookin good from her head to her feet

A few nights ago I was wide awake at 1:30 AM. Since this whole procreation thing is supposed to knock you out, and since I can't take my beloved Ambien at the moment, I was stuck.. laying there worrying about random things like preschool paperwork and the constant VBAC vs. C-Section debate that has been plaguing me in the recent months, all while the theme song for Handy Manny hummed nicely in the background of my mind. Yes, enough to make one want to  jump off a freaking 5th floor ledge.

That eff-ing Handy Mandy song...I had no clue how I was going get that one out of my head. I swore at one point that I was doomed to roam the earth forever humming "do do do do do, Hand-y Mann-yyy.. "

That was, until I heard the new song from Will.I.AM. No longer will the Disneyfied Los Lobos run through my head at all hours of the day! It's been replaced with the ingenious lyrics such as:

Mommy lookin good from her head to her feet.
She forty-four, but she still lookin sweet.
And you can tell her daughter aint even at her peak.
Cause her mama lookin so hot, packin that heat.

and:

If the girl real fine,
Nine times out of ten,
She fine just like her mama.

If the girl real pretty,
Nine times out of ten,
She pretty like her mama.

And if her mama real ugly,
I guarantee ya she gon’ be ugly like her mama.

And if her mama real ugly,
I guarantee ya she gon’ be ugly like her mama.

If the girl real sexy,
Nine times out of ten,
She sexy like her mama.

While Jason normally makes me turn down songs such as this within the first 30 seconds, I will tell you that by the end, while shaking his booty with his hands in the air, even he admitted its a catchy tune.

Oh, and its always a good laugh to think of all the lame-ass club girls in their micro-mini skirts going crazy and singing along when he says "If you're pretty make some noise"...